Redwood National Park, Northern California Coast
Up Route 101 and over the last hill before the coast,
One first views the rolling surf of the Pacific.
A breathtaking sight; a glimpse of isolated beach,
Where Redwood Creek meets the sea,
And Freshwater Lagoon, where white Egrets stalk,
Sits across the roadway.
Huge logs and stumps of redwood driftwood
Sculpted and smoothened by wind, wave, and sand,
Lie scattered on this long strand.
We walked here many years ago,
Astonished at the size of the driftwood,
Anxious to see the living versions up road apiece.
This is my first view of the Pacific Ocean
On my cross-country trip west.
The overcast and fog suit my mood perfectly,
Since I’ve broken down twice already
Thinking about you and our time here.
I’ve turned off the song “Come Monday”
Just because of the lyric line,
“Can’t wait to get you back in my arms once again”.
The heavy surf drowns out my sobs;
My tears blend with misty fog.
I will go inland to the Coast Redwoods
After I reminisce of you sitting on a drift log
And of me taking your picture.
We walked the beach, before we also went inland,
In those halcyon days of ours, so long ago.
There are small wildflowers blooming
Amongst the sparse dune grass.
I spot an unusual large drift log, like a seat,
Below the high water mark.
Near one corner, I hand dig a small trough
In the smooth, wet sand
With clam air holes scattered around.
I lay gently a parse of your beautiful locks
Into the hole and cover them.
I finger draw a heart shape around the spot.
Next tide will embrace you, Water Spirit,
And take you back to the mighty sea tonight.
4-21-2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem